


Hot Wing

by Betor



Series: Tentacle Series [2]
Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-13
Updated: 2010-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betor/pseuds/Betor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightwing faces more perils as he explores his new relationship with Kon El. <br/>Disclaimer: DC owns. I only play with it.<br/>Warnings: Slashy. Tentacles! Mutant flora!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Wing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest. Prompt from twinsarein: "People aren't the only ones affected by the meteor rocks, some plants are too. Plants with long tendrils..."
> 
> Sequel to "Need".

Need's ethereal white seeds are still drifting here and there, riding the late morning breeze like billions of tiny ghosts. They dot her red hair and green leaves like rice thrown at a bride. Ivy silently commands the seed to cling close to her. Later she will take them to the safety of the nearby cabin that she had rented. She's spend all night, mourning Need, and walking the Crater Lake forest, but she hasn't found any trace of Harley.

She's been back to the cabin twice, hoping Harley might be there. Now she's going to loop back by the greenhouse. Ivy scoops more fluffy seeds from the air and shapes them into a crown around her head. She turns away from the birds feasting on the bounty. She won't begrudge the birds their brunch. It's not as if Need can germinate without her help.

Ivy steps out of the forest. Her hands come up to cover her mouth as she gasps in shock. The last time she had been this way, the secret greenhouse had been intact, aside from a few shattered panels in the ceiling. Now it looks like some bizarre sculpture of twisted metal and melted glass. As if someone had trashed the greenhouse, piled all the pieces into a big heap, and smashed it again, before burning the whole.

Who? Where? Had it been the same person who had taken Harley and their captive? She walks cautiously closer, but no heat radiates from the melted mound. She circles around the side and stops as she discovers a rough symbol burned into the mass. Is that supposed to be an S? Even as she steps backwards for a better look, a black and red streak swooshes over her head and lands on the top of the heap.

"Superboy." Ivy stares up at the menacing black shape of him. He had clearly selected a spot that would silhouette him against the sun. The looming effect is bad enough, but the way that his eyes glitter with red lights, she can't help but recall certain rumors about who his other parent is rumored to be. The idea of a being with Superman's powers and Luthor's evil genius...Ivy smiles invitingly. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"Here I am. All alone." Ivy strolls around him, watching him turn to keep watching her. She sweeps her long, red hair over one shoulder. "Can you say the same?"

"Meaning?"

"Aren't your little JLA buddies listening in?" Ivy silently orders the leaves that cover her to ease lower, exposing more of her pale green breasts. She hasn't been interested in men on a personal level since her change; they smelled wrong and felt wrong against her skin, but what she could do to protect the environment with kind of raw power that Kon El has.

"No."

So Superboy wanted to a talk to her alone. Isn't that interesting? Assuming, of course, that he isn't lying. Could he be bored with the JLA approach and looking for something different? sWith her new angle, Kon El is no longer a menacing block of shadow, but a gold-skinned brunette with vivid blue eyes. Ivy widens her smile in growing confidence. "In that case, come down. Then we can...talk."

"I will only tell you this once."

"And what's that?"

"Leave Dick Grayson alone."

That Bludhaven cop? Why would Superboy care about that one? What's the connection? Ivy flutters her eyelashes at him. "Who?"

"Don't try to play ignorant. He told me that you knew his name, and what you did to him."

Ivy ignores the way the last word ends with a growling sound. Her body tenses with alert readiness. "That was you last night? You killed my Need? What did you do to Harley? Where is she?"

"Harley is missing?"

Ivy nods.

"Good."

Ivy glares at him, edging closer, silently urging the grasses near the burned earth surrounding the mound to grow. "Do you know where she is?"

"Don't know. Don't care. What I do care about is my friend. Don't touch him. Don't look at him. Don't even think about him. Stay away from him."

Dick Grayson is Superboy's friend? Or is that 'friend'? Are Booster Gold and Superboy are bumping boots on the sly? Ivy taps her toes against the soft grass as she ponders how to turn the information to her advantage. "Or what? You'll report me to the JLA?" She hops back, as the grass that she's standing on begins blackening and smoking.

"Do you really want to find out?" Kon El, stares at her, red sparks flickering across his eyes. "Don't test me on that one."

Ivy watches as he leaps into the sky and disappears. Don't look. Don't touch. Don't think. And why should she waste her time when she can arrange for hosts of others to do it for her? This might work out quite well. She can use a decent nemesis to build her standing in the supervillain community. Booster Gold is laughable so she won't claim him no matter how annoying he is. Batman is fun, but he's so popular that it's hard to get his personal attention. There's nothing more humiliating and annoying than putting on a show in Gotham and having the Boy Wonder or Batgirl show up instead.

Ivy scowls. She had been considering Green Arrow. She likes a hero who uses 'green' in his name, and Toyman always said that Green Arrow knew how to give good showdown. She turns to leave the clearing and recoils as a whirling red portal forms. It blasts Need's seeds away from her and spits a ragged Harley out before vanishing. "Harley? Harley!" Ivy runs to her friend.

"Hi, Red." Harley staggers upright, wand firmly clutched in one hand and some sort of plushie doll in the other. "Miss me?"

"Are you okay?" Ivy steadies her friend's wobbly steps. "What happened? Where have you been?"

"I was making birdie silhouettes against Need's petals and sending them bomb diving Dick's dick." Harley sniggers against her friend's shoulder. "Wowzer. That was some bald-headed clown cucumber on that guy, huh, Red? What would Mr. J think if he knew that I was looking at Dick's dick? I bet he wouldn't like it. Especially since those chemicals that he was exposed to..."

"Harley," Ivy cuts the other woman off before she learns something about Joker junk that she would prefer not to know. She eases her friend into the forest. "Where were you?"

"I'm not sure. It all happened so fast. One minute I was ogling dick, and the next...this bozo," Harley thumps the doll's head against a tree, "pops in on me in blast of light."

Ivy stares at the doll. It looks strange enough to be one of Toyman's creations with the peculiar combination of green cloak and silvery armor. But why would he send a doll after her or Harley? "Is it one of Toyman's?"

"Nope. One of mine. It used to be a guy...at least, I think it was a guy. Hard to tell in all that armor. Who wears that kind of armor these days? Somebody needs to tell Doomie to get with the times."

"Doomie?"

"That's his name. He poofed in on me and made a grab for the wand without so much as an 'excuse me, miss'. Said his moniker was Dr. Doom, and he was taking my wand." Harley smacks the doll against the next tree. "Bad Doomie. Bad. Nobody takes my wand."

"Doctor Doom. You stole from Dr. Doom?"

"It's not his wand. It's mine."

"You stole it, Harley."

"Not from Doomie. I stole it from Mr. J."

The Joker is going to be annoyed with Harley, but Harley wouldn't have stolen from him if she hadn't been feeling provoked. The weekend is suddenly looking better. She's been trying to get her friend to dump the Joker for years. "Why?"

"Mr. J and me...I think we're done." Harley's full lower lip quivers. "Ooooooh, Red. What am I gonna do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"He said that I was nothing without him. That he was the one that scared the capes silly. Not me. He stole my money and kicked me outta his place. Told me not to come back. I heard him tell his crew to kill me on sight if they saw me again."

"So you went back and stole his stuff?"

"Stole back all the money he stole from me. With interest." Harley grins and waggles the wand.

"Good for you." Ivy smiles back. She doesn't need to ask what her friend had done to whichever of the Joker's goons had been there when Harley returned. Henchmen were easy enough to find so the Joker probably wouldn't care about finding their bodies when he got back. But the wand, he might get nasty over that and the money. "Do you know where he got it? What he intended to do with it?"

"Nope. Someone else was in you greenhouse tonight too, Red. I didn't get a peek at whoever it was before GloomieDoomie yanked me into some kinda pocket portal."

"Don't worry about that. Let's get you back to the cabin."

"That would be nice." Harley yawns. "I feel like I could sleep for a week, Ivy. Doomie put up a good fight, but I don't think he knew me very well. He seemed to think I was some sort of clown."


	2. Hot Wing

"Conner?"

"Dick?" Conner hovers next to a tall tree. He stares through the leaves to see Dick lounging casually on a sturdy limb. "Why are you up here?"

"Because they are down there. Why didn't you warn me about the Luthor chickens?"

"Luthor chickens?" Conner looks down to see a flock of white chickens strutting beneath the tree and pecking around the roots. "Those are Chanteclers. They can be a little unfriendly, but..."

"A little? They chased me up a damned tree. Is LexCorp breeding experimental attack chickens?"

Conner bites his lip to keep from sniggering. Dick is okay with bats, but chickens bother him? "They probably thought that you were going to feed them."

"And where did you disappear to?"

"I...ummm." Conner looks guiltily at his boyfriend. "I went back. You know. There."

"Conner, I can handle my own problems."

"I know, but this is one problem that you shouldn't have to." Conner frowns as he studies the bewildered expression on his lover's face, It's as if the idea of someone else stepping in to take care of a problem so that Dick wouldn't have to is as alien to his lover as he is. He floats closer. "I'm not saying that you couldn't deal with Ivy, but right now, after...well, you shouldn't have to. Nothing wrong with taking the occasional timeout."

Dick sits up, eyes widening. "Ivy was there? Conner, she's not in the Joker's league, but she's damned dangerous."

"She won't be a problem. At least, not for Dick Grayson. Nightwing will probably have an occasional problem with her, but she has no reason to focus on him."

"I wish she didn't have my real name." Dick rubs a hand over his face. "She and Harley thought I was Booster Gold. Booster Gold. Booster. Gold."

Conner gives the other man a sympathetic look. It's good that they had mistaken Dick for another cape instead of Nightwing, but couldn't they have at least picked a cool cape? "I know. You don't look a thing like him either."

"He's blond. He's fifty pounds heavier, and three inches taller. And blond...did I mention the blond?" Dick scowls. "Do I look like I used to play football professionally?"

"You're miles sexier too." Conner sneaks a fast kiss.

"And now, every time Booster aggravates her, she's going to be gunning for me."

"No, she won't. I fixed that."

"Conner. What did you do?" Dick asks uneasily.

"What? You think I can't handle her? I grew up with a supervillian, thank you."

"Ivy isn't your...Popster."

Conner rolls his eyes. "If you think Popster goes easy on me because I'm his son..."

"I think he loves you and wants to protect you. Ivy will want to use you, or hurt you, or both."

"Not a lot she can do to get to me."

"She'll find something. That's what a good villain does." Dick looks away, staring down at the busy chickens. "Did you...see any other plants like Need?"

Conner rubs a soothing hand over the tightening line of his boyfriend's shoulder. "No. I think that must have been the only one. I did see other plants in the greenhouse. I destroyed all of them."

"Good."

"The greenhouse too."

"Even better."

"It's one big slagged heap. Here." Conner hands Dick his badge, and JLA com link. He watches with satisfaction Dick tucks both into the Fordman's jeans that he'd bought for his boyfriend. It's not quite as good as looking at his old Smallville Crows tee shirt wrapped around Dick's chest, but it's close. "I found those. I didn't see your watch or wallet."

"Thanks. What happened with Ivy?"

"Not much. She tried to lure me into grabbing range. I didn't go for it. She tried a few miscellaneous threats. Throwing out bait to see what I'd snap at. I don't think her heart was in it, she seemed more worried about Harley Quin than me. I made it clear to her that Dick Grayson was a Superboy buddy, and that I wouldn't be a happy Super if she mess with him." Conner grins. "And yeah, I know that means that she now thinks Superboy and Booster Gold are buds, but I was willing to take one for the team on that. Who cares what Ivy thinks?"

"We better."

"She wouldn't dare bother you now. Why would she want me to be even more pissed with her than I already am? You worry too much. Dick." Conner leers hopefully and drifts between Dick's spread thighs. "I think I got a cure for that."

"I've got something that I want to do." Dick sets his hands on his lover's wide shoulders. "If you're up for it."

"Yeah?" Conner floats closer. "If it involves you, I'm as up for it as a guy can get. What do you have in mind? Wild, freaky tree sex while the chickens watch?"

Dick laughs. "No. No chickens. How do you feel about getting freaky on Ivy's greenhouse? Is it nearby?"

"Crater Lake park. Dick, are you sure you want to do that." Conner touches lover's cheek.

"Sex you up on Need's grave. Hell, yes, I'm sure." Dick wraps his arms and legs around Conner. "Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's good to be a Luthor. Even better to be a Luthor with a newly delivered, custom Porsche. What would people make of his vanity plates? Would they think that 'Tent Me' expressed a newly discovered appreciation for camping? Lex walks slowly around his new acquisition in the LexCorp garage. He had intended to order a dignified dark wine color, but as he'd been looking at colors charts, it had occurred to him that since the whole point of the car was to get tented, that what he really needed was a Clark shade.

He slides his palm over the dazzling grape glossiness of the roof. His husband is going tentacle wild when Clark sees him in this car. Lex opens the door and slides onto the pale gray leather seat. He smiles with anticipation as the engine purrs to life. He'd cleared his calender for the rest of the day, and ordered a picnic basket, and called his husband to demand an early lunch. He is so getting himself some extra tentacle time today.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No, Lois, I don't see why...what?" Clark frowns at his partner's distracted face as she stares past him with an expression of such horror that he is automatically loosening his tie, ready to go Superman. "Lois?"

"Who would do that to a defenseless car?"

Clark turns to see his husband pulling up to the curb outside the Daily Planet. "Ooooooooh. Purple."

"Purple? That's not mere purple. That's like extra-strength purple on purple steroids purple. What the hell has Luthor been snorting?" Lois puts her hands on her hips. "That man's got a lot of nerve to make comments about Superman's costume if he's gonna cruise around Metropolis in that. The Porsche people must have cried buckets and had nightmares over that car."

Clark ignores her. It's all he can do to fast walk and not speed over to the car. He swallows as he palms the sleek hood and then the roof. His hand trembles as he reaches for the door. He slides onto the passenger seat and looks at his husband. Lex is in another purple silk shirt, one that matches the car perfectly. "Aaaaaaah."

"You like the new car?"

Clark nods several times as he stares at his husband's purple-gloved hand wrapped around the stick, stroking and squeezing. He touches Lex's hand and moans. "Uhhhh."

"I ordered a picnic lunch for us. I thought a nice drive would make us both feel...good. What do you think?"

"Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhuh."

"Good. Glad you agree." Lex smirks at him, and pulls out into the traffic.


	3. Hot Wing

"What do you want to do?" Conner asks.

Dick touches the glass. It no longer looks anything like a greenhouse. Instead it looks like a beautiful abstract sculpture. That Conner was able to take the ugliness and transform it like this moves him deeply. He traces the twisting curls of metal, gleaming like silver under the sunshine. "You did this?"

"Yeah. Dick," Conner rests his hands on his lover's shoulders, "if it's not enough, I can chunk this sucker into the...whoa."

Dick leans back against the glass and pulls the other man close, needing the warmth of Conner's skin against his. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his lover's black tee shirt. "You made it something beautiful. Like a frozen waterfall."

Conner raises his eyebrows. "You like it?"

"I'm not saying that I'd want it where I would see it everyday, but yeah." He slants his mouth across the fullness of Conner's and takes his time, exploring the contrast between the satiny softness of his lover's lips and the velvety heat of tongue and mouth.

"Ummm." Conner surfaces from the kiss, breathing rapidly. He rubs his face against Dick's throat. "What do you want?"

Dick playfully sticks his tongue in Conner's ear. "Guess." That gets him a soft purring growl as Conner settles more aggressively against his body with a hard thigh nudging between his. "Liked that, did you?"

"Oh, yeah." Conner unfastens the button on his lover's jeans, and then lowers the zips as he kisses Dick again. He moans roughly as warm, bare flesh pushes into his hand. "Ooooh. Neither boxers, nor briefs. Naughty. I like that in a guy."

"What about you? What are you wearing?" Dick reaches for the other man's jeans, but Conner evades him, sliding downwards to kneel in front of him.

"I'm going to remain a man of mystery for a little longer."

"Conner." Dick's breath catches as he looks down at the hungry part of his lover's lips.

"I want to taste you first." Conner looks upwards, eyes deep blue and intense, watching Dick as he slowly leans closer. "I can't get enough of the way you taste. The way you feel in my mouth."

Dick moans at the first touch of lips and tongue as Conner teases him, lightly mouthing crown and shaft. What had happened here with Need feels as distant as if it had happened centuries ago as he holds his lover's avid stare, reading the love and want glittering in the depths. Conner's touch is transforming the event as surely and magically as Conner had turned the greenhouse from a place of ugliness into beauty.

"Conner. Please." His hands fist against the glass as Conner takes him deeper, sucking him all the way in. "Oh, god." He thrusts into the welcoming, struggling to keep it shallow and gentle, but Conner's hands close around his flanks in silent reassurance and encouragement. "You...god...your mouth...Conner."

Conner winks at him, eyes lighting with mischief, and then the heat covering him cools to crisp autumn day, warming into spring, and then back to the sultry heat of summer. Dick pants, fighting for breath and control. Every stroke of tongue teases him with changes that keep every nerve sensitive and trembling with surprised delight. Dick pounds his fists against the glass as he cums.

"Ssssh. I got you." Conner kisses the quivering abs. His hands slide up to his lover's waist. "I got you."

The words sound very much like a vow. Dick touches the short blackness of his lover's hair. He leans down to kiss the tender fullness of the other man's mouth. "I've never cum that hard in my life."

Conner grins at him. "Liked that, did you?"

"God, yes. How did you...what did you..."

"Super breath...it's good for a lot things." Conner smirks.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harley turns down the sound on the TV, and looks over the back of the sofa. "Hey, Red?"

Ivy looks up from her computer screen. "What?"

"Have you watched this before?" Harley throws Doomie at the TV and catches him as he bounces off.

Ivy glances at the circle of scruffy minor celebrities discussing their drugs of choice on the flat screen. "No. I like Discovery or Animal Planet. Sometimes PBS, although they don't air nearly enough shows on plants in my opinion."

"I could do something like that. GloomieDoomie could be my first customer." Harley tosses the doll in the air and catches it. "Or maybe not. I kinda like him this way. Makes him a really good snugglebunny, doesn't it, Ol' Glooms?"

Ivy frowns as she watches Harley bounce the plushie off the ceiling. Dr. Doom's blog had no mentions of a missing wand. Either the wand isn't his, or it was his, and he didn't want to advertise the theft. Or possibly, the wand belonged to third party and when Doom found out about the wand, he had decided to add it to his own collection of magical items. "You want to be on TV?"

Harley shakes her head. "Get back to work on my original research. I could have a group like that."

"Addicts?" Ivy clicks back to the main page of the SuperVees forum. She looks over the menu options. The Minions section would have some helpful gossip. And if that failed, there's always the EvilMage page.

"Villains." Harley folds her arms over the sofa and props her chin on them. Doomie perches at her elbow.

"You want to reform villains?"

"What fun would that be? No. I want to use my skills to help them uncover and reconnect with their inner villain. Have you seen those poor souls after they complete the JLA reform program so the capes will leave 'em alone? It makes me hurt here," Harley presses her palm to her chest, "to see them doing the eight to five in some damned cubicle or selling hotdogs on the street corners."

"You'll need money."

"I have some." Harley frowns. "But I might need more. I'd need a place, and staff. Some sort of therapeutic activities for them. Bribe fund. Plus I need the time to convince the JLA that I'm reformed and on the up and up."

This is getting her nowhere. Maybe she should simply google it instead. Ivy closes down the forum and opens up a search screen. She types her search in and instantly a screen pops-up with glowing, sparkling words on it:

'Reward offered for one magic wand stolen from the Zatara family. For further information click here.'

Ivy looks at the icon of a black top hat resting on a pair of white gloves and then clicks on it. Another page pops open, smoky black script scrawling across a gold background:

'Congratulations! You have been successfully cursed.'

"What?" Ivy gasps. She snatches her hands back from the keyboard.

'Too late. Return the wand and the curse will be removed as your reward.'

"But I didn't steal it," Ivy protests. "I don't have it. This isn't fair."

A row of red devils begin line dancing across the gold background, and when the last devil high kicks his way off screen there's an explosion of sparkling green confetti, then more smoky script appears across the confetti. 'Do I look like I care?'

"I know who you are." Ivy scowls at the screen. "I could report you to the JLA, Zatanna."

'Would you like super-sized curse fries to go with that curse burger?'

Ivy glances uneasily at the Dr. Doom doll. If just a Zatara wand can do that, does she want to find out what an angry Zatanna Zatara can do? "No. I don't believe so."

Clapping gloved hands appear on the screen. 'You choose wisely.' The hands disappear and a calender appears, the week splattered with red droplets. 'You have one week to give me the wand.'

"I don't have it."

'Then get it.'

Ivy frowns. There has to be an angle somewhere that she can work with this. "How do I contact you?"

'Touch the wand and say my name.'

Touch a magician's wand and then call the magician? No, she doesn't think so. Ivy tries again to find some wiggle room, "What if I find out who has it and can't get to it?"

'Enjoy the rest of your cursed life. Have an interesting day.'

The screen goes blank and she's looking at a pop-up ad for smirking screen-savers. Ivy looks down at herself. She doesn't look cursed. She doesn't feel cursed. Maybe it's a psych. After all, why waste magical energy when one might be able to achieve the same effect with psychology? There's a thump against the front door. Both women turn to stare at the cabin door. Something rustles and then there's a louder thump.

Harley sits up. "You expecting company, Red?"

"No." Ivy stands up. She pads silently to the door as Harley sneaks over to the window.

"I think it's for you."

Ivy glances at Harley. "Why?"

"Mr. Big and Leafy isn't my type."

"A plant?" Ivy opens the door to stare curiously at it. The doorway is filled with long purple tendrils and thick, feathery purple leaves atop a spindly mass of roots. "Oh! It's beautiful."

Ivy looks covetously at the plant. So much for being cursed with a beauty like this showing up on her doorstep. She touches a leaf and it rasps deliciously against her skin. A short stalk, crowned with pink flowers, rises from the mass of leaves, and the flowers smell more wonderful than anything that she's ever smelled. "Oooooh."

Harley frowns at the plant as a broad leaf curls around Ivy. "You okay with that thing, Red?"

"Uh-huh," Ivy murmurs. She leans closer to the pink-crowned stalk. Her green eyes half-close in delight as a smaller leaf slides over her thigh. "It smells glorious, Harley. Glorious."

"Don't look, GloomieDoomie." Harley squashes the doll against her shoulder, and grabs her wand. "Gonna go for a walk, Red. You need me, give me a shout out."


	4. Hot Wing

"Do we have any grapes left?"

Clark leans up on his elbows and inspects the mixed fruit box. "We ate them all. What about strawberries? There's some blackberries, raspberries, and kiwi."

"Blackberries."

He scoops up a handful of the plump berries and feeds one to his husband. "I can not believe that you put that license plate on it."

"Tent me?" Alexander sniggers. "It worked. I got magnificently tented."

"Tentacle tease."

"If it wasn't so much fun...god, the look on your face when you saw the car." Alexander stretches, luxuriously bare, sweat-damp skin gleaming in the sunshine. "More."

Clark feeds him another berry. "Greedy."

"Only for the finer things...like you." Alexander kisses his husband's fingertips and then licks berry juice from them.

"Oh, so I'm on the menu today, too?"

"After the blackberries and before the strawberries." Alexander yawns.

"In that case..." Clark promptly offers another blackberry. "I have something I want to add to the menu tonight."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Spoiled Lord of the City."

"Again? Have you no imagination? We did that last week."

"But you do it so well." Clark looks through his lashes at his husband. He deepens his voice, "And it gets me so hot."

"Okay." Alexander sighs loudly as if tremendously put upon. "But you owe me three Alien Slakes His Lust on Innocent Earthboy."

"Make it Snarky Earthboy and you've got a deal." Clark can feel his tentacles flew hungrily at the prospect. "Or we could compromise on Lusty Alien Overlord."

"Ummm. Evil Lusty Alien Overlord. We haven't done that recently."

"Evil Lusty Alien Overlord annndddd Arrogant Clubber. Yeah." Clark gives his husband another berry. "Now that's one that we really haven't done in awhile."

"I'll break out the black leather and appall Conner."

Clark sighs as a distinctive sound catches his ear. He drops the rest of the blackberries back in the box. "Alexander..."

"What?" Alexander scowls.

"I have to go."

Alexander gets up and pulls on his boxers. "Fine."

How can his husband make an act as quiet as pulling on a pair of boxers seem as loudly emphatic as a lock snicking shut? Clark reaches for his own boxers and reluctantly pulls them on. "Alexander, I can't ignore them."

"Did I say anything?"

"Very loudly."

Alexander slips on his trousers. "You better go."

"It's probably not...anything." Clark looks helplessly at his husband. He worries as much about Alexander and gets as annoyed when important LexCorp or LuthorCorp business intrudes on them.

Alexander grabs him and kisses him hard. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't do anything crazy." Clark takes a second kiss and then a third before speeding into his costume.

"Don't make me." Alexander buttons his shirt and slips on his shoulder holster. He grabs his jacket. "Go. I better see you tonight."

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ivy?" Harley calls. Are they still knocking leaves in there? She looks down at GloomieDoomie. "Whatda you think? We've been walking for hours and hours. Should we sneak in and get something to drink and sneak out?"

Doomie stares glumly back at her, despite the jaunty yellow wildflower that she had tucked beneath the hood of his cloak.

"Yeah, me too. I'm thirsty and my feet hurt. Red, we're coming in." Harley taps on the door in warning and hears a patter of thumps and rustling noises. Mr. Leafy had better not be planning to wave his flower stalk at her. She call hear Ivy's raised voice, but not what the the other woman is saying. Harley pulls open the door. "What's that, Red? Wowza!"

Harley steps nimbly aside something fuzzy and leafy bounces through the doorway. Before she can react it's followed at a rapid clip by a horde of small hoppy leafy things that scuttle vanish into the woods. Harley clutches her doll. "Did you ever see the like, Glooms? What the hell were those things? Ivy?"

"I said don't open the door!"

"Oh." Harley cautiously eyes her friend. Her friend's dark red hair is in a wildly frizzled nimbus instead of the usual supermodel sleekness. Ivy's leaf dress is missing more that a few glossy leaves, and the jade skin is bruised a darker jade in places. "Sorry. You okay?"

Ivy stretches her neck and then smooths her hands over her minidress and bright new green leaves grow over the bare patches. "Excellent."

"What was...that." Harley looks out the door, hoping that the fuzzy purple horde wouldn't be returning. The spider like scuttle-hop motion. "They seemed sorta spidery."

"My seedlings."

Uh-oh. Harley avoids her friend's green eyes. "I meant spidery in a really cute way. Sorry about opening the door."

Ivy sighs. "I was hoping that if I kept them imprisoned in the cabin, they would see that I'm not so awful. That they would understand why I had to...I didn't know that they were there until...oh, Harley."

"Until what?"

"That." Ivy whips around and glares toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

A large mottled leaf is shriveled and curled on the floor. Harley eases closer and she can see a trail of shredded, shriveled, and torn leaves scattered up and down the hall. Behind the couch, there's a blasted and shriveled lump, limp and browning. "Oh, Red. Things went bad?"

"That bastard was only using me to germinate!" Ivy walks over to glare down at the dead plant. "I was so seduced by his sweet scents that I didn't realize...and when I did. Oh, Harley. I didn't know that he had already succeeded. They saw...they saw me...kill him."

"That's not good."

"No." Ivy stares hopefully out at the woods, and then her shoulders droop.

Harley hugs her friend. "Maybe they'll come back. No reason why we can't stay a few extra days."

"Do you think your wand would work?" Ivy asks. "I've tried calling them, but they're so angry and afraid..."

"Sure thing, Red. We better get rid of that first," Harley stands back and points her wand at the massive plant and it vanishes along with all it's scattered leaves. "Ready?"

Ivy walks back to the door and shuts it. "Ready."

"Okay." Harley aims her wand at the colorful rug by the couch, and the seedling appear. They freeze in stunned heap.

"Don't be afraid." Ivy takes a step toward them. "I would never hurt you."

The seedling instantly clump together, rubbing their leaves, making a frantic squeaky sound.

"Please, listen to me. Believe me. I would never..." Ivy sighs as the seedling separate and scuttle across the floor away from her. They race wildly around the cabin, bouncing off doors and closed windows with thunks as they try to escape. She backs slowly down the hall. "Okay. Okay. Harley, I'm going to my bedroom for awhile, give them a chance to calm down and adjust before I try to talk to them again."

Harley just manages not to flinch under Ivy's gaze as a seedling bounces off her ankle and spider walks over her foot before running to hide under the TV stand. "Quiet time sounds like a good idea for all of us, Ivy. I think I'll go to my room, shut the door, and watch my Dexter DVDs. If only I could find a guy like that. He'd be the sugar in my cookie."

"Can I watch with you? I need to talk to you." Ivy glances at the hiding seedlings. "It's about that wand. I found out who it belongs to."

"I'll get the DVDs. You get the popcorn." Harley plops her doll down on the couch. "You watch the seedlings while Ivy and I have some girl talk, Doomie."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Batman."

"Superman."

Clark crosses his arms over his chest, trying not look as resentful as he feels over his interrupted afternoon. "What's the emergency?"

"There's not one. That's the emergency."

Clark thinks about his husband, wrapped in a purple silk shirt, and driving from Metropolis to Smallville in a purple Porsche. Alone. He could have ridden home with Alexander. Maybe talked his husband into pulling over a few times for another celebratory boff on the hood. He glowers at Bruce. "Run that by me again."

"I have something that you need to see. This way." Batman pivots and stalks away. He stops abruptly as he notices that he isn't being followed.

"I'm not a Boy Wonder. Try again." Clark narrows his eyes allowing some of his irritation to leak through. "You could even use the magic word."

"You want a magic word? Luthor." Batman snaps around and strides away.

Instantly Clark is stalking along next to the human. "Fine. You've got my attention. What's this about?"

"I told you. Luthor."

"Which Luthor?" Clark frowns. Maybe he shouldn't have brushed Alexander off at breakfast when his husband had been talking about Lionel. "Lionel? Lucas?"

"Yours." Batman sweeps into a into a room and sits in front of a large computer screen filled with code.

"Mine?" When would Alexander have had the time to aggravate Bruce? Or had Bruce found out about Conner and Dick? Does Bruce think that Conner isn't good enough because he's Alexander's son too? Or is it the alien part that's the problem? Clark waves at the screen. "What's this got to do with anything?"

"Did you know that Luthor hacked into the JLA database this morning?"

"He what?" Clark frowns at the screen. It's not beyond Alexander to do it, and it certainly wouldn't be surprising to him if Alexander had, but why would his husband want to do it this morning? The afternoon would make more sense. Alexander might want to snoop around and see what mission he had called in for, or to program all the JLA showers to emit random sprays of ice water as payback for their picnic being interrupted. Not that he's going to explain any of that to Bruce. "Are you sure?"

Batman gives him a pointed stare before turning back to the screen. "What's his interest in Tamaran?"

"Tamaran? Starfire's homeworld," Clark frowns. "I've never heard him mention Tamaran."

"What about Starfire? Some grudge against her?"

"He's never mentioned her either."

"Then why would he interfere in the mission assignment? Starfire had events under control, and then matters suddenly escalated. Starfire requested JLA back-up, and we sent a team out through the teleportation tubes."

Clark shrugs. "Still not seeing the interference part."

"Perhaps you should remove your rosy glasses where he's concerned. I suspect, but have not confirmed that Luthor had a hand in the escalation."

"Like you don't spend a goodly portion of your time chasing Catwoman across Gotham."

Batman's mouth thins. "Catwoman is a significant menace who needs to be brought to justice."

"Uh-huh. So you think that Alexander interfered on Tamaran soil, but you don't have any evidence. That's what you called me up for?"

"Not only that. Luthor also changed the team-up. Why would he want Tempest, Arsenal, and Nightwing assigned to the mission."

"I don't know why...oh. Oh." Clark rubs his forehead as long ago gossip floats to the surface of his mind.

Batman spins around and stares alertly at him. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just remembered that Nightwing and Starfire used to be a couple."

"Are you suggesting that Nightwing, rather than Luthor, manipulated the team-up? Or that Starfire did?"

"Ummm, no. It was just a random thought." Clark shrugs. "I'd almost forgotten that they were serious enough an item at one time that there had been talk of a marriage. Seems like there was another girl too..."

"The original Batgirl, now Oracle. She and Nightwing are still close."

"What about you and Nightwing?" Clark asks carefully. There had been a lot of gossip at one time about some sort of rift between Nightwing and the boy's longtime mentor. That Batman had been pissed when Dick Grayson had left Robin behind to become Nightwing.   
And in turn, Dick had been hurt when Batman had immediately and unceremoniously replaced him with a new Robin. "Are you still close now that he's in Bludhaven?"

"We work together as needed, yes. That's not the point of this conversation. Why did Luthor interfere on Tamaran?"

"Allegedly interfere. You don't know that he did. If someone is causing trouble on Tamaran, there are more likely suspects." Clark stares back at Batman. The other man would understand if he explained the complicated father-son relationship that Alexander and Lionel had, and how it sometimes skewed Alexander's decisions, particularly where protecting Conner is involved, but it's not something that he can explain to Bruce without betraying Alexander. And since the chances of Alexander messing with Tamaran again are on the slim side, Clark adds, "Maybe you should keep an eye on the situation. See if a pattern emerges. Since I'm here and suited up, I'm going see anyone needs a hand."

"You do that." Batman turns back to his screen.


	5. Hot Wing

Dick can hear the low bee-buzz hum of activated privacy force shields on the other JLA tower showers being used around him. It's not the most relaxing sound effect, but he wants a shower too badly to care. He picks a shower cube at random and slaps the button to turn on the green shield. He places a clean Nightwing costume on the far end of the tiled bench that runs along the wall, just out of the reach of the water spray.

He strips off the bloody, muddy mess mess of his costume and drops it into a laundry bag for cleaning and repairing later. Dick stretches wide against the tired tightness of his muscles. He walks over to the controls, selects his preferred choice of water temperatures, and spray speeds.

His gaze focuses on the bruised rings on his wrists, leftover from yesterday's fight with Need. The bruises ache, but they hadn't impaired his range of motion on the mission. That's the important thing. Dick moves into the rapid patter of the warm water. A smile touches his mouth, as he looks down at the race of water over the neat patterns of purple ovals that Conner had left on him. Those marks make him feel happily horny and safe as if he's still hugged close by Conner.

Is Conner bunking down at the farm or castle tonight? Or maybe at the Metropolis penthouse that Conner had mentioned when they had been planning to go there? Dick slides his palm over the oval spots. Does Conner miss him as much as he misses Conner? And is the fact that he feels so strongly after one night with Conner a sign that he should give more weight to Babs' lecture?

She hadn't said anything to him that she hadn't said before, but that she had used her Oracle channel to the JLA tower to talk to him about a personal matter shows the depth of her concern. Dick stretches again, muscles easing under the water's warm. At least, between the long conversation that he'd had with Babs after his post-mission briefing with Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman, his shower had been delayed long enough that there's little chance that he will run into Starfire, Tempest, or Arsenal.

Dick reaches for the shampoo and pours some into his cupped hand. To think that he's spent most of his day off having A Day From Hell, Part Two, instead of enjoying Conner's promised Smallville tour. Still, he'd gotten to see the Kent Farm. That had been interesting. And there had been the kissing, although they had progressed well beyond that when the JLA buzzed him. Thank god, he had been with someone who understood when he'd gotten buzzed as such an awkward moment. Conner had only laughed, and checked his own signal.

The laughter had changed to a frown fast enough when Conner had discovered that Kon El had not been called too. But he couldn't fault his new boyfriend's response to the disappointing news. He'd been speedily flown to Bludhaven to turn into Nightwing before taking the JLA teleporter tube. The day had gone rapidly bad after that. He'd walked into the briefing room to see Kori, or Starfire as he should call her here, and Arsenal, and Tempest. Dick washes the shampoo out of his hair.

He can only hope that Conner will take the team up as well as the alien had the interruption to their plans for the day. Especially when he has no explanation for the why of it. Oh, he knows the mission objectives, but why the JLA's computer system had spat his name out for the team roster...he still can't figure that one out. Or why the computer had decided that Kori needed Tempest and Arsenal also for this mission. Neither one had had that much to do which left them all the more time to hit on him.

He's not sure whether they have a bet on which one of them can get him into bed, or if they simply can't believe that he really isn't interested in either one like that, but they are always persistent in their pursuit of him. This isn't the first mission where he's had to resort to making up busy work assignments to keep them out of his space. With that team up, it had been a very good thing that the computer hadn't added Kon El to the group.

He can imagine the fallout from his lover's probable reaction to a mission that included his only other alien lover, and seeing him being flirted with by two male capes on the make. That really would have been the flaming cherry on top of the Day From Hell sequel. Particularly since they had agreed to follow Superman and Luthor's example; Dick Grayson and Conner Kent could be open lovers, but Kon El and Nightwing would be caped colleagues.

Dick grabs a wash cloth and a bar of soap. They had managed to save the day, despite their differences, and that's what counts. He and Kori are adult enough to get a job done together despite their past with each other. Arsenal and Tempest...Dick shrugs, they will mature one day. Hopefully before he or Kon El does something to them. He stares down at the soap bar in his hands, smile fading, as he wishes that he could wash away Babs words as easily as the muck. Babs has known him a long time; she had been Batgirl when he had been Robin.

They had trained together and backed each other up on patrols. They had been friends, crime fighting partners, and off-again, on-again lovers. They had even considered marriage at one point. He had been there for her after the Joker had shot her and Babs had grown from Batgirl into Oracle. She had been there for him during the hard first years of being increasingly at odds with Batman and deciding to transform into Nightwing.

Babs knows him better than anyone and he has no doubts that she wants the best for him. But can he follow her advise and still be him? This isn't the first time that she's warned him to stop leading with his heart, to be less impulsive in his romantic entanglements. He's not surprised that she knows he's found someone new; Babs is as hyper-alert as Batman to any changes in her environment. One of her crew had probably spotted Nightwing taking a last kiss before leaving for the mission.

The green privacy force shield across the front of his shower bleeps and blips in startled protest as something blurs through it. The soap sploshes out of his startled hand and hits the tiles with a thunk. If Arsenal or Tempest has dared invade his privacy, he is going to pound them good. Enough is enough. Dick turns, ready to fight, and finds himself facing a determined looking Superboy. He blinks water from his lashes. "Kon?"

Conner stands just out of the spray's spatter. He lifts his chin. "You expecting someone else?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone," Dick returns mildly. Has Conner heard already about who had been on his mission team up? "Particularly after our agreement."

"And I haven't broke it. No reason why I can't fly over and see whassup. Chill, Wing. Nobody saw me scoping out the showers to find you and I speeded over here too fast to be spotted."

"What are you doing here?"

"If you mean the tower...I dropped in to visit Pops. If you mean this shower...I heard there was a free range hot wing on the loose." Conner toes his sneakers off to reveal bare feet. "So how is Starfire?"

Dick grabs the younger man and pulls him under the water. "It was a mission, not a date. We didn't have time for small talk."

"That's too bad." Conner grins and steps closer, uncaring of the water plastering his black Superboy tee to his chest and his jeans against his legs.

"Nightwing?" Arsenal's voice carries over the hum of the shield. "Is that you in there?"

"No," Dick calls back. He cups a hand around Conner's head, and leans in for a kiss.

"It is you. Come on, Nightwing. Let me buy you dinner. Anywhere you want," Arsenal offers. "Show you there's no hard feelings."

"Let me buy you dinner," Tempest chimes in. "No hard feelings here either, but if you ever change your mind..."

Conner surfaces from the kiss with a low growl. "Is there a reason why they might think you're mad at them?"

"You know Arsenal and Tempest," Dick tells him. "Annoying is their middle name."

"So about dinner," Tempest says. "I know this place on the beach. Great food. Romantic sunrises."

Not to be out done, Arsenal pipes up, "And I know this great place where the sushi is..."

"Shut the fuck up and go away," Conner snaps in a deep rough rumble that Dick has only heard when his lover is on the verge of cumming.

The tone wraps around his cock like a wet mouth, and Dick presses into the younger man's heat, very aware of the fabric that's separating his skin from Conner's. He grabs the hem of the black shirt and peels it from the alien's wide chest, and over Conner's head. He murmurs, "You have too much on."

"Yeah?" Conner's eyes darken to a deeper blue as he whispers back, "Maybe you should do something about that."

Dick smiles. "You did save me from those rabid attack chickens that your dad keeps."

Conner sniggers. "They weren't attacking. They thought you were going to feed them. But if you want to reward me...I wouldn't say no."

The startled silence outside is finally broken by Tempest's laugh. "Hey, Nightwing? You got somebody in there with you? That's cool. I'm good with a threesome. Who is it?"

"Or a foursome. Like I told you on the mission, you've got an ass built for," Arsenal begins.

"Nightwing is taken! Now get the fuck out of here before I throw you through the fucking," Conner suddenly stops mid-snarl as the privacy shield in the next shower cube powers off. His eyes widen and places a warning finger across Dick's parted lips.

Dick silently mouths, "What?"

Conner leans in and whispers in his ear, "Pops is taking a shower, a couple of cubes down on the other side. He didn't care for my language."

Dick hisses quietly. "You let me makeout with you, knowing that your dad could hear us!"

"No. We automatically screen each other out. It's the only way that either of us has any privacy. I didn't realize he was showering until he told me to settle down." Conner playfully teases his lover's ear with the tip of his tongue.

Dick pulls back and gives Conner a mock stern look. "That did not feel like settling down."

Conner slides his hands down the strong muscles of the other man's back. "Your own fault for being so fucking hot."

"Oh, yeah? You're gonna throw me, are you?" Arsenal calls. "You and what army?"

"Yeah," Tempest echoes. "You and what navy?"

A third voice cuts in, "What is going on out here?"

Nightwing winces at the deep bass rumble. "Hi, Superman. Sorry we disturbed you."

"You didn't disturb me, Nightwing, but that's more than I can say for other persons."

Conner whispers, "Sorry, Pops."

"Sorry, Supes," Arsenal chirps. There's a pause and then he adds more soberly, "I mean, I'm sorry for the disturbance, Superman."

"Me too," Tempest adds. "Sorry, Superman. We were just leaving."

"Yeah. Leaving," Arsenal agrees, voice fading as he moves away. "Dinner."

"Yeah. Dinner. Bye!" Tempest calls.

Superman clears his throat. "I have dinner plans as well."

"Awww, man." Conner groans. "With Popster? Where?"

"Yes. With him. We have a few things to discuss that require maximum privacy. Good evening, Nightwing. I'm leaving for dinner now."

"That means they're gonna be at the farm again. I don't know why they don't move out of the castle. They spend more time at the farm." Conner leans his forehead against Dick's. "Wanna play some water polo tonight?"

"I could be persuaded. Is it naked water polo?"

"That's the only kind worth playing." Conner glances at the soap resting between their feet. He leers at Dick. "You gonna pick that up?"

Dick laughs. "Why do I have a feeling that it might take several attempts?"

Conner sweeps a hungry hot stare over the other man's wet body. "Looks like a job for Nightwing to me."

"Funny...it looks like a job for Superboy to me."

"We could try it both ways. Compare results."

"Sounds like a plan." Dick slides through his lover's hands and kneels. He scoops up the soap and holds it up. "Here."

Conner takes the soap with a hand that trembles slightly. "Wing...you don't have to do that. Not that I don't want it. Hell, yeah, I want it. But I don't want you to think that because I did it earlier that you have to..."

"I want to try this." Dick smiles at the ripple of stomach muscles as he undoes the top button. He hesitates for a second over the zipper as the bruises around his wrists remind him of Need. Can he handle being nose to tentacle? The hesitation evaporates on a flash of heat as he wonders what Conner will taste like there.

"Wing? I mean it. You don't have to. I don't care what we do as long as we do it together."

"Kon...try not to drop the soap." Dick lowers the zipper and tugs down the jeans to reveal bare tentacles. "I see someone got dressed in a hurry."

"See how fast you get dressed when you hear that your boyfriend went on a mission with an old flame and two notorious lechers."

"You don't have anything to worry about. It doesn't matter how many missions I go on with Starfire, or anyone else, the mission is the only thing getting done." Dick studies the tight clenching curls of the tentacles. The pose reminds him of the swimming pool and the way Conner had been trying so hard to hold back and not scare him.

"I know. I know you wouldn't. Guess feeling that way serves me right for thinking it was funny when Popster got so wild about Pops going on a 'date' with Wonder Woman."

Dick gently strokes one tentacle, encouraging it to unclench. "Relax, Kon."

"I don't want to scare you."

Dick lowers one hand to his swollen cock and strokes it. He gives Conner a sensual smile. "Do I look scared? Stop worrying about me. Worry about hanging to that soap."

"Gonna make me drop it? I'd like see you...uuuuuuhhhh."

"Like that do you?" Dick grins. If a brief kiss to a tentacle has that big of an effect...he licks the length of the tentacle curled around his fingers and takes the tip in his mouth, teasing the cups with his tongue.

"GAAAAAAAH-UUUUUH!"

Tiny bits of pulverized soap drift around him like a mini-snow flurry as tentacles unfurl and wave wildly around him. Some cling to his shoulders and knot around his wet hair. One curls around his throat, sucking at his skin, while another pats his cheek, and another sucks pleadingly at his lower lip.

Dick allows the first tentacle to slide away. He parts lips, offering his mouth to the pleading touches, taking two tentacle tips inside. He slides his tongue over the soft muscular warmth of them, exploring the smooth topsides and bumpy bottoms, dipping the tip of tongue into the cups as Conner makes hoarse inarticulate noises over his head. He gently pulls them away with the hand that he'd used to stroke himself and the tentacles grab it with eager interest, tasting his palm and wrapping around his fingers.

He leans closer to the quivering column of Conner's cock. Dick kisses the hot, flushed skin, and takes the head between his lips, rubbing his tongue across it. He lets it slide back out and Conner whimpers. Dick rubs his face against the alien's stomach. "God, you taste good."

"You." Conner gasps. "You taste so good. Nothing like you. Nothing. Please. Please. Wing. I need you."

Dick tilts his head and swallows the younger man down as far as he can. Tentacles snap, curl, and flail wildly around him, but it doesn't bother him like he had feared that it might. He feels loved and needed, not threatened, as they dance frenziedly around and over him, gleaming with subtle shimmering colors.

"I'm gonna...gonna..."Conner warns breathlessly.

Dick sucks harder, trying to swallow his lover even deeper, and then his lover is cumming in frantic pulses down his throat. Suddenly Conner is on the floor with him, lavishing kisses over his mouth, throat, and shoulders. Whispering how sexy he is. How amazing his mouth felt. What Conner wants to do to him next. He moans against his lover's throat as tentacles curl snugly around his cock, slicking over him. Conner's mouth locks over his, sucking at tongue, matching the greedy suck of tentacles of over the crown of his cock, and then he's cumming, shuddering against Conner's chest.


	6. Hot Wing

"Do you know what I overheard your son saying?" Clark demands as he thumps bottles of beer next to their plates.

Alexander regards the opened beer warily. If it's cold, he's okay, but if the beer is warm, it's the harbinger of gastronomic nightmares to follow, and a complete lack of the hot alien overlord on clubber action that he'd been looking forward to enjoying later in the evening. "No, but considering that he's managed to acquire his first serious boyfriend, I would bet that he called on a wide range of deities with great fervor."

"Do you see how I'm not smiling?" Clark thunks bowls of chilled strawberry soup down.

Alexander stares at the soup. It's pink. Very pink. With wafer thin slices of strawberry arranged in the center with two tiny mint leaves. He looks from his beer to the soup. Clark does choose odd flavor combinations on occasion, but this looks very much like declaration of war. He lifts the beer to his lips and takes a cautious sip. It's warm and aggressively yeasty. "This isn't your usual brand."

"I've been saving it for special occasions."

"I see." Alexander watches as a basket of tough looking rolls, bristling with nuts joins the army. His fingers flex uneasily against his leather trousers. "And why does this particular occasion rate such an interesting brew?"

Clark decants lime green gelatin from a fish-shaped mold to an orange plate and sets it on the table. "I think you know the answer to that."

"Okay, you've got my attention." Alexander stares at the fish's cherry eyes and pineapple scales in horror. "What the fuck did Conner say?"

"That!"

"That what?" Alexander forces his gaze away from the gelatin fish's trembling wobble.

"Fuck," Clark snaps as he slaps a platter of burned fried chicken down on the table. "He picked that up from you."

Alexander sighs as he looks over the calories, cholesterol, and flavor combinations on offer. The beer is beginning to taste pretty damned good in comparison to the rest of the feast that awaits him. "Clark, restricting his vocabulary options when he was a child made sense, but Conner is twenty two now. He's allowed to say, 'fuck'."

"No, he isn't. I don't say 'fuck'."

"That was someone else in my bed screaming 'Fuck me now!' this morning? How odd, and yet how like your town to have the world's only Fuck Me Phantom." Alexander challengingly at his husband as Clark opens the oven door and pulls out a delectably aromatic apple pie.

A blush crawls up Clark's face as he straightens, trying to look dignified. "I only use the word in certain limited circumstances that are not in any way threatening or hostile."

"Who did Conner threaten with his fucking hostile language?" Alexander picks up a roll and inspects it. He tears it in half and looks at the inside. Clark had to have used his heat vision to manage to leave the outside an almost burned brown while the inside is a sullen lump of uncooked dough. "If it was Batman, I'm buying that boy a Porsche."

"There was a minor incident in the JLA showers."

Alexander goes still and grim. "What happened? Who was involved?"

Clark looks at him, eyes wide and startled at the deadly soft tone. He hastily sets the pie on a rack to cool. "Nothing. Nothing like that Alexander. Two of the younger set hit on Nightwing in front of Conner, and Conner threatened them."

"Sounds like a reasonable response to me." Alexander samples one of the strawberry slices on his soup. It's perfect. Tart and delicious.

"We've talked about this, Alexander." Clark sits down across from his husband. "Conner has to have strict control over his impulses and temper, the consequences, if he completely lost it would be..."

"What did you expect him to do? He didn't punch them through the wall, so what are you upset about?" Alexander tunes his husband's response out as he focuses on the apple pie. The crust is a perfect tender flaky brown. The smell is is mouthwatering. Had it been spared culinary sabotage? "What's wrong with the pie?"

"And that's why...the pie?" Clark blinks innocently at him over a spoonful of the soup. "Why would there be anything wrong with the pie?"

"The same reason you decided to serve your special occasion beer? Although why it's my fault that Conner..."

"I'm not the one who runs around snarling profanity laced threats at people."

Alexander grins at his husband. "You know it gets you hot."

"Does not."

"You keep telling yourself that." Alexander takes another strawberry slice and nibbles cautiously on it as he watches Clark put away several spoonfuls of soup. It's also tart and perfect. So are the third, and fourth slices. He picks up his spoon and scoops up a small amount of the pink liquid. "Why strawberry soup? I thought that you preferred hearty hot stews and soups?"

"I felt like making something else for a change." Clark shrugs wide shoulders.

Alexander barely manages not to spit the soup out, but it's a near thing. Where had Clark found enough strawberries at such a perfect peak of near rotten ripeness to make a soup this putrid?

"Something wrong?" Clark asks.

"No." Alexander dips his spoon in again and forces down a second swallow. "I'm not very hungry tonight." His stomach rumbles loudly and his husband smirks. Alexander adds quickly, "At least not for soup."

"Oh. Chicken?" Clark offers the platter of crispy blackness.

"Thank you." Alexander glares at the other man, and selects a breast. He drops it on his plate and smiles tightly. "I'm so glad that you cooked this tonight."

Clark eyes him warily. "You are?"

"Yes. Suddenly I'm can't wait to put my mouth on the succulent soft deliciousness of a good breast."

"Really." Clark smacks the platter back down on the table. "You know what? You're right. There's really nothing like good breast...maybe I should invite Wonder Woman home for dinner next time."

Alexander shoves his chair back and stomps over the window. He stares out into the darkness his hands clenching around the edge of the counter.

Clark sighs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You know that I would never..."

"I know. I'm the one who started it." Alexander frowns. His gaze sweeps the area again with more care. Had he seen movement out there? Movement that seemed purposeful? He steps away from the window. "Clark."

Instantly the warmth of his husband's body is at his back as Clark whispers, "What is it?"

"Do you see anything out there that shouldn't be? I thought I saw movement." Alexander tilts his head toward the yard.

Clark moves between his husband and the kitchen window. He looms toward the darkness, openly staring outside.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what? Look out the window?"

"Make a target of yourself when you don't know what an enemy might be packing. Acting like you are invulnerable to everything when you are only invulnerable to most things. Conner is almost as bad as you are about that. If either of you...if I ever get a call to..."

"It's okay. It's a windy night. I didn't see anything out there, except that Conner needs to weed better. He's got a very large one lurking at the end of the sunflower bed." Clark turns and hugs his husband. He kisses Alexander's forehead. "I don't know what to say. I can't promise that nothing will happen to me. I can't stop being who I am."

"Did I ask you to?" Alexander pulls away and walks back to the table. "All I ask is that you exercise due caution in potentially fatal situations."

"I will if you will."

Alexander looks down at the cooling pie. He picks up a fork and curiously pokes the crust. It flakes easily under the tings, releasing an aromatic burst of cinnamon and warm apples. "That's what we should be taking to Conner about instead of his hostile fucks."

"The rolls were for the fuck, the rest of it...I think you know what that's for."

Alexander forks up a small piece of pie crust and apple. He does hundreds of things on a daily basis of which his husband would disapprove, and he's not about to confess to any of them until Clark catches him at it. "No, I don't."

"I know all about it so you might as well admit it."

"Admit what?"

"What you did."

"And that would be?"

"Alexander."

"Clark." He sniffs the bite of pie. It smells right. Alexander touches a finger to it. The temperature is perfect for eating. Not cold. Not too hot. Perhaps Clark had balked at the sacrilege of apple pie sabotage.

"You did everything but stuff a box of condoms and lube in with Nightwing's gear!"

"Oh. That."

"What did you think I meant?"

Alexander shrugs. "Nothing."

"Why did you do it, Alexander?" Clark asks quietly. "How could you do that to Conner?"

Alexander tastes the pie and chokes. He grabs the beer and takes a huge gulp to force the bite down. "How much fucking cinnamon did you put in there? A whole bottle?"

"I wanted to try a new recipe." Clark smirks. "And if you don't answer me, I'll pull out the vanilla yak milk ice cream that I made to go with it."

"I did it because he's my son, and I want to protect him. All the superpowers in the world can't stop people from hurting you, if you give your trust to the wrong one." Alexander stabs his fork into the center of the pie. "I wanted to see if Nightwing was the right one. He already knows too much."

"You can trust Nightwing to keep Conner's secrets. I wouldn't make any bets on his keeping your's."

"I can keep my own fucking secrets. As long as he keeps Conner's and doesn't hurt my son, I won't trouble him...much. I do reserve the right to test him from time to time."

"So you create an incident and send him, his old girlfriend, and two party capes off on a mission that one could have handled?" Clark shakes his head. "Alexander, I know that the way you were raised...that Lionel..."

"Lionel? Are you saying you think that I treat Conner anything like the way that my dad..." Alexander stalks toward the door and yanks it open, but Clark is right behind him, pushing the door closed, and pushing him back against the wood.

"No. Never." Clark cups his husband's face between his palms. "You're a good father. I don't always agree with your actions, but you love Conner. Lionel doesn't love anything, but power and money. You are nothing like him."

"I'm rather fond of power and money."

"I know, but you don't love it more than me, or more than Conner."

"I don't know...you can be extremely aggravating. I've never had money threaten me with yak milk ice cream."

Clark grins. "So can you."

"Only extremely aggravating? I must be getting soft."

"Immensely aggravating. Hugely. " Clark leans in to take a kiss after each word. "Massively. Overwhelmingly."

"As long as you're well whelmed by me."

Clark nuzzles the other man's throat. He cups his husband's leather-clad backside. "Wanna go to bed and whelm me with your big, sexy, evil self?"

"I would love to...only," Alexander slouches dramatically against the door, "how whelming can I be when I'm weak with hunger?"

"The chicken is salvageable. What if I tossed it with lettuce, bacon, tomatoes, and put some pecans and cheese on top? I'll even pull out the good beer."

"I'm not that easy. I want rolls. And dessert."

"Isn't it lucky had that I have wheat roll dough ready to go in the fridge? Guess what else is in there...hey," Clark protests as Alexander slides away from him, leaving him empty-handed.

Alexander opens the fridge and finds a dark chocolate cream pie topped with a decorative drizzle of caramel and white chocolate. "That's more like it."

"Gonna have some hot tentacle loving tonight?"

"I'm going to blow your tentacles tonight until you scream loud enough to scare chickens in the next county."

Clark flushes and reaches for him. "Alexander."

He evades his husband and sits down at the table. Alexander gives the other man a stern look. "After dessert."

"You're evil. Anybody ever tell you that."

"It's been mentioned." Alexander smirks. "I can't imagine what gives people that impression."


	7. Hot Wing

'Reward offered for one magic wand stolen from the Zatara family. For further information click here.'

Dick stares at the words sparkling on his laptop screen. That had been easy. Too easy? His cursor hovers over the link. A chat box abruptly pops up on the lower corner of his screen with an Oracle icon on the upper corner.

'Why is LL interested in you? B. concerned.'

Dick glances at the very large reason for Luthor's sudden fascination with him. Conner is sprawled prone next to him, arm wrapped around a big pillow, and sheets pushed down to his thighs. Conner's tentacles sleepily nuzzle his leg. Dick leans down to give them a quieting pat before typing back: 'No need for concern.'

'B. says LL behind today's team-up.'

"Sonofabitch," Dick mutters under his breath. Luthor had set him up? Sent him off with Starfire, Tempest, and Arsenal to see if he would stay loyal to Conner?

'N?'

He types back: 'Still here. I know why there's interest. Nothing for you or B to worry about. Gotta go. My boyfriend is waking up.'

"Dick?" Conner blinks at him. "What time is it?"

He glances at his computer screen. "Two." Dick closes down his browser and powers down his laptop. He sets it on the bedside table. "I woke up and thought I'd do a little research on missing magic wands."

"Find anything?"

Dick shakes his head. "Not yet."

"Maybe you weren't looking in the right place." Conner moves between his lover's thighs. He presses a kiss to his lover's stirring cock. "In fact, I believe I see one now."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The wonderful smell of baking bread drifts up the staircase to the massive bed crammed into Clark's boyhood room. Ahhhh, the fringe benefits of being the object of an evil alien overlord's lust. Alexander smiles and breathes in the scent. Green smells waft through the open window, herbs and flowers. Is that lavender? When had Clark tried growing that?

He doesn't want to get up yet, but when the scent of brewing coffee joins the crowd, his eyes open. Alexander freezes mid-stretch. "What the fuck?"

Most of the bedding had hit the floor at some point during the clubber's vigorous defense of his virtue, and then equally vigorous yielding to alien enticements, but a soft yellow sheet half-covers him. It's folds are thickly dotted with small plants. A few medium-sized ones litter the the mattress, and a couple of larger ones seem to be growing from Clark's abandoned pillow.

The spindly leaves remind him of air plants or spider plants, but he's never seen any with leaves striped in alternating rows of lavender and jade. Is this something new that Clark is trying? Lately Clark has taken an interest in herb gardens and heirloom vegetables. Some very odd looking and delicious things had begun to turn up on his dinner plate lately. Had Clark decided to scatter sweet-scented plants over the bed as a romantic gesture?

Alexander touches one of the plants on the pillow. The leaves feel soft and velvety as he gently strokes it. There's a faint, subtle sense of pressure as if the leaves are pressing back into his touch. "Are you an interesting specimen?"

Tiny buds open into creamy star-shaped flowers and the scent of lavender grows stronger.

"Very nice." Alexander tells it. He looks down as something nudges his other hand. One of the smaller plants is sitting on his hand, fine roots spread over his skin. He slowly lifts his hand and the plant scuttles to his fingers and wraps its roots around his fingers like a perching bird.

The lower leaves rub his skin and then each other making a soft purring chirp sound. Purrreep. Pppurreep. Purrreep. Then a single tiny flower opens. The other plants bounce at him, and Alexander leaps out of the bed. He stares at the leafy ranks lining up along the edge of the bed, blooming and ppurrrreeping at him. He looks at the plant clinging to his hand, and a second flower blossoms.

Thump. Thump. Thump, thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump. Thump. The plants jump off the edge of the bed and scuttle toward him, gathering close to his bare feet. Purrrrep? Purrrrrreep! Puurrwep? Purrep.

"Clark." Alexander keeps his voice level and pleasant as he watches his growing herd of admirers. They don't seem to be dangerous so far. "Clark, get your alien ass in here. Now."

"Alexander? What's the..." Clark stands next to his husband, staring at the silent plants. "Where did those come from?"

Even as he asks, there's a scrabbling sound at the open window and a four tiny plants curl over the sill and then hop down like leafy paratroopers. They scuttle rapidly across the floor, halting at the hem of Clark's flour-sprinkled jeans. An exploratory leaf taps Clark's bare toes.

"Talk to it," Alexander orders, curious to see if the plants would behave differently.

"Umm, okay. Hello, down there. Good morning." Clark glances at his husband as the other three plants pat his toes, and then puurrreep at him. "What are they?"

"You're asking me? This is your town." Alexander watches as a plant leaps at him and thunks off his knee. The four at his husband' feet, scrabble up Clark's jeans, purreeping all the way, to curl their roots around the belt loops. They burst into bright yellow flowers and purreep louder. He smirks at Clark. "Congratulations, you've been adopted."

"Alexander." Clark stares down at his belt loops in alarm. "What am I supposed to do with them?"

"You're the farmer. You figure it out. I'm going to take a shower." Alexander strolls toward the bathroom, followed by a horde of puurrrepping, white flowered plants.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Ivy stands in the clearing in front of her cabin, holding the magic wand. "Zatanna."

A second later a beautiful brunette in fishnets and an abbreviated tux outfit stands in front of Ivy. Zatanna smiles. "I see you found it after all. Good."

Ivy holds the want out. "Remove the curse and take it."

Zatanna stays where she is. "Not until your friend with the rifle puts it down and comes out of the cabin."

"We didn't steal this. At least not from you." Ivy lifts her chin. "I think we should get a reward."

"You are. Unless you really want to keep the curse. I can arrange that as well as a side of curse for your friend."

"What if I know who originally stole it? I don't know why he wanted it in the first place, but he will try to steal again if he still thinks that he needs it." Ivy steps toward the other woman.

"What do you want?" Zatanna turns, hands going up and ready, as Harley steps out of the cabin.

"An introduction and good word." Harley strolls out, her hands laced behind her blond head. "I want protection from him. I want into the JLA reformatory program. I want to use my skills to help other villains make a successful transition after completing the JLA program."

Zatanna glances at Ivy, "And what about you? Do you want to reform?"

Ivy glances at Harley. She looks back at Zatanna. "Sure. Why not? I can be Harley's first patient."

"Very well." Zatanna walks to her and takes the wand. She flings a handful of sparkling powder at Ivy and whispers a word too softly for either of the other women to hear it. "Your curse has been lifted. As for the introduction..."

"Can we go ahead and get over with?" Ivy glances at the cabin. "I want to get out of here."

"Are you sure, Red?" Harley asks. "We could hang around a few days if you want."

"There's nothing, but bad memories here. I'd rather move forward. Let's get this done." Ivy looks at Zatanna. "Who do we have to talk to?"

Zatanna takes a tiny headset from her vest, turns it on, and slips it into her ear. "Zatanna. I have two villains who want to enroll in the reform program. Who is the closest representative that I can turn them over to? Very well. Arrange a meeting."

"Who is it?" Ivy asks.

"Yeah. Who's it?" Harley drops her hands.

Zatanna shrugs. "Some cape from Bludhaven. Nightwing."

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I think someone needs to explain the whole vacation concept to the JLA," Conner grumbles as he pulls a fresh black and red teeshirt over his head.

"This won't take long. Be grateful that all you have to do is grab a tee shirt." Dick positions his mask and presses it to his face.

"Why did you volunteer to be on the Reform Council? It's gotta be the most thankless job there is."

"I don't do it for thanks. I do it because I believe that people can change if they want to. Every villain who does truly change, and becomes a productive citizen, makes it worth the ten who are playing the system. Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can have breakfast."

Kon El shakes his head. "Why you want to breakfast with the 'rents is beyond me. Didn't you have enough fun the first time?"

Nightwing pulls his gauntlets on. "Consider it my own personal desensitization therapy. I'm in this for the long haul, Kon El. That means learning to deal with your parents. Ready?"

"Yeah." Kon El wraps an arm around Nightwing's waist. He steals a fast kiss and grins. "Now, this is the fun part."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That had been easier and faster than she expected. Harley looks at the two capes having a low-voiced conference with Zatanna, after talking to her and Ivy. She looks curiously at the big guy in a simple tee shirt and jeans. So that's Superboy. She hadn't ever seen him so close before. His eyes are an unnaturally deep blue and those red sparks glittering across the iris as he stares at her and Ivy are really feakizordly alien looking.

She turns her attention back to the more familiar Nightwing. She and Ivy have tangled with him a few times. She wonders what color his eyes are behind the concealing lens in his mask. She admires the powerful body filling out the black and blue costume. He seems sorta tense. He'd probably been out fighting villains before getting Zatanna's page. Might even be concealing an injury of some sort. That would explain why Superboy keeps between Nightwing and them.

Harley twirls a pigtails and pops her gum, trying to look as harmless as she can. She glances at Red who is watching the group with massive indifference. She could pull this scam without Red, but it will be easier with her friend's help. Harley grins at Ivy before turning her attention back to the capes.

After a little more conversation, Nightwing steps back from Zatanna. He strolls toward them, very closely followed by Superboy. Nightwing gives Superboy a look over his shoulder. "Do you mind?"

Superboy gives him the look right back. "Yeah. I do."

Nightwing ignores him and keeps walking. He stops a careful distance from Ivy. "Congratulations, Poison Ivy and Harley Quin. You've been accepted into the JLA reform program. You start immediately. The program requires that you hold down a regular job, and the you report in twice a week to an assigned JLA volunteer mentor. You can expect to spend an extensive amount of time with your mentor. There's also required group and individual therapy sessions. Your mentor will explain the details and rules to you."

"Okay." Harley nods. "Who's the mentor? You?'

"No," Nightwing and Superboy answer together. Nightwing gives the alien another look before turning back to Harley. "Zatanna volunteered to be your mentor."

"Oh." Harley eyes the smirk on the other woman's face. Okay, so this might not be so easy. "What about Red? Who'd she draw?"

Nightwing grins big and bright. "She's gets our newest volunteer mentor....Booster Gold."

Ivy snaps around from her study of the surrounding bushes and flowers. "What!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Dick bites into warm bread, spread with strawberry preserves. He umms with quiet appreciation. Who knew that Superman could cook like this? He glances speculatively at Conner.

"Don't look at me, man." Conner grins at him, completely unphased by the row of purrreeping blue-flowered plants perching on his shoulders like exotic epaulets. "Toast is the most complicated thing that I cook."

"I can teach you to bake bread if you like, Dick," Clark offers. "It's the least, I can do."

Alexander waves a crisp slice of bacon. "Don't look at me. I gave him a box of a unique and rare Smallville plant species. What more could he want?"

"An apology?" Conner suggests. He shakes his head at his father, "Popster, I still can't believe that you sent Dick off on Mission Nookie. He's not the sort to cheat on a partner. I already knew that."

"And now, I do too." Alexander plucks a white-flowered climber from a fold of the tablecloth and sets it back down on the floor. He points a finger at it. "Naughty. Stay down there."

"Dick, we are very sorry about that, and it's not going to happen again is it?" Clark gives his husband a look. "Alexander?"

"I'll never tell the JLA computer to send Nightwing on a mission with Starfire again."

Clark eyes Alexander suspiciously. "Alexander."

Dick looks at the leaves poking through the edges of the small cardboard box at his elbow. An orange flower peeks out. Purrrreep?He looks at Alexander. "As long as we understand each other, I'm satisfied."

"Good. Now if you will excuse us," Alexander stands up and casually pulls Porsche keychain from his pocket.on the table.

Clark swallows and looks from the keys to his husband. "Alexander?"

"I thought that today would be a good day to wash my new car. Would you care to help me with that, Clark?"

Dick blinks and both men are gone, leaving him alone in the kitchen with Conner and dozens of ppppurrreeping plants. "Your father washes his own cars?"

"Pops does his own truck. Poster...not so much."

"Then what are they..."

"You don't want to know. The visuals would rot your brain." Conner pulls the bread board closer. "More fresh bread for us. Whatcha wanna do with the rest of your day off?"

"Spend it with you."

"Good. In that case, why don't I take you on a tour of Smallville make-out spots? We can end with back row in the newly opened Talon theater."

Dick grins. "What are they showing?"

"Nobody knows. The Talon theater is a magical place, couples go in, and nobody ever remembers what was on."

"Too busy to care, huh? If that's where we're going to end up, where are we beginning?"

Conner spreads honey butter on a slice of bread and toasts it with a glance. He offers it to his boyfriend. "How about here?"

"Here's good." Dick leans closer and takes a bite.

 

THE END


End file.
